Only Speak When It Improves the Silence
by Kiki Hera Shadows
Summary: Loki has been exiled out of Asgard. He no longer had his powers, and his lips were sown shut by the Allfather. Falling to Midgar was a painful process, and Loki-who was now a mortal-found out just how fragile a human body could be. Just when Loki thought his life had come to an end, someone he was not expecting rescues him and gives him shelter. FrostIron.
1. Prologue

**Okay, this is dedicated to my Tony on Facebook, because she motivated me to do it XD**

**I love you sweeti **

**I'm not sure what warnings I should say, other than that this story is full of pretty rainbows of gay-ness, M/M relationship. FrostIron. Tony Stark x Loki. For now that's about it. **

**I own nothing, all rights reserved to Marvel.**

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**Only Speak When It Improves the Silence**

**Prologue**

Loki expected the glares and disgusted looks he got when he returned to Asgard; he expected the hush whispers and disgusted comments. He knew he would get no less, and it would be pointless to hold onto meaningless hope when his own brother looked at him with pity. Thor had left him in the caring hands of Odin's guards about an hour ago, and needless to say, other than giving him glares and pushing him to walk, they ignored him, unwilling to talk to a criminal. The metallic gag was still tightly pressed against his mouth, preventing him from talking, and even if the gag was removed Odin had his lips sown shut the moment he arrived, his hands still cuffed in front of him with the chains weighing his arms down.

Loki stood in front of the golden doors that lead to Odin's throne room, his heart beating quickly in his chest—beating so fast that he thought it might burst. He wasn't sure if he was excited, or anxious, or scared of facing the Allfather again. He bit the inside of his cheek hard, drawing blood into his already abused mouth at the thought. Him? Scared of Odin? The man who lied to him all these years? If he could laugh at that foolish thought he would. Instead he rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, glancing down the hall expecting to see Thor—or Frigga—running to him before the trail began.

No one came.

He shouldn't be surprised. They weren't his family—he not her son, not his brother—why should they bother with him, someone who committed such horrid crimes against them all; against the Golden Prince's precious Midgar? How foolish he had been to think that he had ever been a part of his family.

Loki should have known there was more to it than just his mere trickery when the Aesir would glance at him with disgust in their eyes—when they would stop talking as he walked by, then continued in hush whispers behind his back. He had always felt out of place in Asgard, especially around Thor's _friends_, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. They would always try their hardest to be kind to him, but even the kindest gesture held venom and hatred behind it. Perhaps Thor could never catch it, but Loki—the Liesmith—always did. He always noticed the way Sif would look at him like he was some piece of worthless trash not worth any of their time and he would notice the way the three idiots would make comments questioning Loki's gender because he was the weak, scrawny, pale, raven-haired prince that no one cared for. He was useless to them all. He was not skilled with a sword, not skilled with his fist, nor did he bother to become better at them. He was the best in all of Asgard with knives, throwing them and never missing his target, always in a critical area that would kill his victims quickly. Did they praise him for it? _No_. He was skilled in magic, creating mystical things out of thing air; creating illusions and wonder with a few simple words. Did they praise him for such a skill that most, if not all, Aesir now lacked? _No_, they called it trickery. They rather have someone strong, skilled with weapons—a giant oaf swinging a large sword—as long as he can be called a warrior that were happy. If they could die in battle and go to Valhalla, they were worth something. In their eyes, Loki would never have that privilege. He was no warrior. He was a trickster, a Liesmith; he was anything but what they wanted.

Loki was never once wanted in this realm, and he never once felt like he was. No matter how much Thor and Frigga—and even Odin—tried to make him feel otherwise.

"_Enter." _

Odin's booming voice snapped Loki out of his thoughts. His green eyes moved up to look at the golden doors slowly opening and he pushed himself off the wall; the guard grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. Loki was honestly surprised to see the hall filled with the noble gods, Sif and the Warriors Three on the steps of the stairs leading to Odin's throne, Thor and Frigga next to the throne. The guard that had a strong hold on his arm pushed Loki down to his knees in front of the steps so everyone could watch him submit to the Allfather.

"Loki…" Odin began, sighing softly. "Laufeyson." The air around the great hall grew cold at the mention of his true parentage. Loki noticed Sif narrowing her eyes as if he alone had done her a great injustice. Thor glanced down at the floor, unable to meet Loki's green eyes, and Frigga—sweet Frigga—placed a hand on her face to hold back tears.

"You must answer for your crimes against Asgard, Jotunheim, and Midgar. You have committed treason against the crown; you have fanned the flames of war, and laid ruin to two of the Nine Realms." The Allfather's voice continued to rise as he spoke, and by the end it was booming like thunder around the great hall.

Loki's eyes narrowed with every word, feeling his rage—his _hate_—build up, stronger and harder than before.

Odin rose from his throne slowly, his one blue eye never leaving Loki's face. "You must face justice for what you've done; for the lives you have taken and the chaos you have brought to the Nine Realms." Odin paused slightly as he gripped Gungnir tightly in one hand. Energy began to surge around the Allfather, cracking like electricity. "I cast you out, Loki Laufeyson! You are no longer worthy to carry the title of Prince of Asgard!" His booming voice carried venom as he aimed his spear towards Loki's chest, a bright light began to emerge from the tip as a buzzing sound surrounded Loki.

Loki, despite himself, swallowed in fear behind his gag. His palms were sweaty as he watched the light grow bright, the sound grow defining. He whipped the sweat on his leather pants slowly as he glanced around the hall. No one would look at him directly in the eyes—not even Thor, who claimed to love him.

"Goodbye, Loki." Odin said softly, almost in a whisper. Loki looked back at the Allfather just before Odin shoot out the flash of light. It hit Loki like a brick wall ramming into his chest. It felt like something was crawling down his throat, digging its claws into every fiber of his being and ripping something out of him—tearing out his very soul. He wanted to scream and thrash around. He wanted to cry. The pain was unbearable, and his lips were struggling to keep closed; the sutures ripping his lips, blood pouring into his mouth. Just when Loki thought he couldn't take anymore, everything went dark. His body felt like it was falling, becoming lighter and lighter as the wind flew past him.

He could no longer feel his own body; it felt like it was someone else who was in pain, someone else who was falling into an endless abyss.

Maybe, just maybe, his torment would end, and Odin had ended his life.

One could only hope.

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**Well that was the prologue. that happened. Next chapter will be longer XD;;**

**You are all welcome to point out any mistakes or anything. I won't bite. :3 **

**and you could always leave a lil review .w.**

**~SaYa**

**~ A**


	2. Prologue II

**Guess what? **

**This is a second prologue.**

**Yeah. There are two.**

**Know why?**

**CAUSE I DO WHAT I WANT I:**

**:D **

**Warnings: Mentions of Tony/Pepper, excessive drinking, and Tony Stark being Tony Stark.**

**I don't own any of this, all rights reserved for Marvel. **

**Enjoy~**

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**Only Speak When It Improves the Silence**

**Prologue II**

Tony Stark was bored.

And that was an understatement.

He was currently sitting on the couch, one leg stretched out on it, the other one was resting on the floor; his bear toes rubbing the cold tile slowly. A bottle of scotch laid on the floor next to his foot; it was half empty. A glass filled with amber liquid was in his right hand, his tablet in the other. Tony hadn't moved from that spot for ten hours, and he wasn't planning on moving any time soon. Tony tapped away at the screen, not really paying attention to what he was typing.

Pepper had stopped by yesterday to check up on him. Like he needed a babysitter. He was old enough to take care of himself. So what if he didn't eat, or sleep—or bathed—for a few days. His body was fueled by alcohol; it as used to going to the extremes. She shouldn't be worried about him because he didn't eat or anything, she should be worried about him if he _did_ start eating; if he stopped drinking. _Then everyone should be worried._

Ever since Pepper had broken up with him he hadn't felt comfortable around her. He still lived her—no. Tony never really loved Pepper. He cared about her, sure. She was one of the only people that had stayed by his side—and she knew everything about him, even the things he never told anyone. Tony would gladly admit that he needed her in his life, and not only to run the company. She basically organized his life, and he was perfectly okay with that.

Pepper hadn't given an excuse why she left, only _"I can't take this anymore, Tony"_ and that's it. They were over. She moved out, he stayed in this large tower by himself. It had taken a whole week for Tony to realize that Pepper was really gone, that she wasn't going to come back. He would see her once every two months at most. She called to tell him about the company, or to ask if he was eating. The conversations usually never lasted more than ten seconds, and if Tony sat there and tried to make them longer with sarcastic remarks, she would quickly apologize and hang up.

After that week he had decided to take some time off and go back to his home in Malibu because all of the Avengers would be moving into his tower. It was no longer Stark Tower. Now it was called Avengers Tower. Tony provided everyone with everything; rooms, training room, gym, Stark tech, and money. Of course he also funded SHIELD, watched over Stark Industries, signed important papers Pepper needed him to sign, patrol the area when it was his turn as Iron Man, train with Steve, work on his tech and suits, improve JARVIS, drink lots of coffee and alcohol, and repeat.

Who needed sleep?

With a sigh, Tony set the tablet down on the coffee table. He looked down at the glass and downed the drink, setting the glass aside as well. He ran a hand down his face, sighing again; exhaustion catching up with him. He wasn't really sure how long it had been since he actually got a good night's rest. Being alone didn't help the fact that he needed sleep; loneliness caused him to over thing, over thinking caused him to work, and work meant no sleep.

Simple enough equation.

The solution was much harder.

Finally getting to his feet, Tony picked up the bottle as he walked to the balcony, looking out into the water. He took a long swing from the liquid, loving the burning sensation that numbed him. The sky was growing dark, and the stars were beginning to appear. He hadn't even realized how late it had gotten, or what day it was for that matter. Mumbling to himself he took another long gulp of scotch before he threw the bottle across the balcony. It shattered against the wall; scotch spraying everywhere, broken glass shards glistening in the dim light.

A loud thunder-like sound distracted Tony, making him look up at the sky. It looked like it was being ripped open, a bright white light—definitely not lightning—flashed through the clouds, blinding him. "JARVIS…" He said, rubbing his eyes and blinking a few times. He began to think that he was a bit too drunk and he was seeing things, but this seemed a bit too real.

"_Yes, sir?"_

"JARVIS what is that?" Tony asked, blinking the spots out of his vision. Everything was back to normal; no opening in the sky, no white light, no sound. Just silence and darkness.

"_I am not certain, sir. It has similar characteristics of Thor's BiFrost and Tesseract interdimensional travels, but it is different."_

Tony groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Fucking perfect. Get my suit ready, JARVIS." Tony said, finally sobering up enough to walk to the stairs that lead down to his lab.

At least something interesting was finally happening enough to catch his attention.

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**Okay, I promise the next update will be chapter one. XD **

**And it'll be much longer obviously. **

**I just wanna thank everyone who reviewed and followed this! I wasn't expecting so many! Thank you so much! **

**Also, my dear lil Tony~ I love you, hun~ *showers with you love* Hoped you liked this :3 **

**~ SaYa**

**~ A**


	3. Chapter I

**Only Speak When It Improves the Silence**

**Chapter I**

Tony was still a little bit buzzed, his vision was blurred around the edges, and his head would feel as if Thor was punching it when he turned it too quickly. He made his way towards the stairs that led to his lab, having to put his hand on the wall to support himself—which didn't really help, since he tripped and had to jump down five steps to save himself from falling and breaking his neck. Once he had managed to get into his lab, it didn't take longer than a minute to assemble the Mark VI; in less than two minutes he was flying out of the mansion. He had bumped into the walls a couple times, but had managed to exit the tunnel like pathway without any major damages. Tony was certain there were some laws against flying while intoxicated, but what's another broken law in his book, right?

"JARVIS, did something come out of that… that thing?" Tony shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts of the alcohol that had taken over. "Whatever it was." Tony grumbled a bit under his breath as he flew higher into the clouds, thankful that no one had heard his drunken stupidity, other than his trusty AI.

"_Yes, sir. Something fell into the ocean by Paradise Cove." _JARVIS's electronic British accent rang out in Tony's ears, and Tony was sure that he heard a scowl of disapproval from his AI, but he blamed it on the alcohol.

"Give me the coordinates, JARVIS."

"_Right away, sir."_

Not long after JARVIS had said that, Tony's screen flashed with the direction of his destination. He began flying towards it, but it would be some time before he got there. "JARVIS, can you give me some visual?"

"_The images aren't clear, sir." _

"Show me anyway, Jarv."

The AI pulled up a small screen to the left of Tony's helmet with what looked like a typical night view of the ocean. Trees swayed in the soft breeze as waves rolled over the sand. Tony could see a couple people by the edge of the water, screaming at each other as two men tried to swim deeper into the ocean. At firs Tony didn't see what they were swimming to, but as the image on his screen disappeared and the actual view appeared in front of him, he saw it.

Someone was drowning.

"JARVIS, is _that _what fell from the sky? A _person_?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"_I believe so, sir."_

"Damn it." Tony cursed softly under his breath, knowing this couldn't be anything good. He automatically thought it was some evil alien creature that was planning on taking over the world again. "JARVIS, full powers to the thrusters. He's not going to make it if I don't get there in time." Tony said, debating on actually saving the man or not; Iron Man would look bad if he just let someone drown while he watched though, so he was going to save this person-alien-thing.

"_Already done, sir."_

In seconds Tony was over the water, leaving the two men attempting to swim to the drowning man, in the dust. The one that was drowning was thrashing his arms wildly, his black hair pulled over his face so Tony couldn't see who it was. He could see what appeared to be chains around the man's wrists, and something shimmering on his face when the raven strands of hair would move out of the way.

"Shit." Tony cursed again as he dived down into the water. He wrapped his arms around the man's body and pulled him up, lifting him out of the water quickly.

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Loki didn't know how long it took him to fall; it felt like he had been falling for an eternity. His body felt as light as a feather; colder than anything he had ever felt. It surprised him. The cold never bothered him. In fact, he usually welcomed it. He felt at home in the snow—of course he did, he was a Frost Giant. How could he forget that little fact?

It wasn't until he hit something that his train of thought broke. All the air was knocked out of his lungs; he struggled to breath, trying to claw his way out of the sticky wet substance he had fallen into. The liquid rushed into his nose, making its way into his lungs and suffocating him. Loki couldn't see—couldn't breathe. He thrashed and struggled, trying to get to the surface of where he had fallen.

Every time he would break the surface, he would be dragged back down; waves crashed into him, knocking the little bit of air he managed to get out of him. The chains dragged him down, tangling themselves with his legs, making it harder for him to kick to the surface. The metallic gag made it difficult to breathe, because he was not able to take air through his mouth, he had to struggle with the little bit of oxygen he could manage through his nose—which was usually filled with salty water.

Loki knew he wouldn't last long; God or not he would die if he could not breathe. He shut his eyes tightly, his wet hair clinging to his face and gag, making it hard to see anything to begin with. Loki felt himself get heavier as darkness surrounded him. He began to sink back into the dark water, the liquid filling his lungs again. Breathing in one last time, he allowed himself to fall into the darkness. Maybe now he would be welcomed in Hel and given eternal paradise.

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Tony held the limp body in his hands as he flew back to shore; the man's long black hair was clinging to his face, still making it difficult to identify him. There was something about him that deemed familiar though, and it troubled Tony. He had a bad feeling about all this that had nothing to do with the alcohol he had consumed; he felt completely sober now. Once he reached shore, he landed on the sand with a heavy _thud _and laid the man down; sand stuck to his wet armor and the man's torn rags.

Tony's face plate slid up, allowing him to see the man with his own eyes now. He quickly brushed the man's raven black hair away from his face and froze.

"_Loki?"_

Tony all but screeched as he saw the God's face. Loki looked paler—lifeless even. The gag that he last seen the God in was still in place; chains were wrapped around his wrist, binding them together. His leather armor was gone; all that was left were dirty, torn, undergarments that Tony was sure weren't used since the medieval ages; a long gray shirt that came up to Loki's knees and long loose pants that ended just above his ankles.

Tony quickly snapped out of it as he moved a hand to the back of Loki's head and quickly removed the metallic gag, throwing it away somewhere. He turned to look at Loki, ready to do some CPR, when he noticed the black thread tying Loki's lips together. The stitching was done wrong; Tony could clearly see the ragged edges where the person had stabbed the skin multiple times to try and get it right. The wounds were still fresh, and there was blood covering the God's lips. The gag had been on place so tightly that Loki's lips were dry; a clear dark imprint of the gag remained on Loki's pale skin.

"What the…"

A crowd began to form around them, and Tony began to panic. He realized that if he didn't get Loki breathing soon, there would be no way to bring him back. God or not, he was sure they needed to breath to live. He quickly looked around, trying to find something sharp enough to cut the thread off. When he found none, his panic level sky rocketed.

"Does anyone have a knife!?" He shouted, looking at the crowed. "Something sharp! Anything!"

When no one spoke up, Tony cursed loudly and turned his attention back to Loki. He would have to rip off the thread and that would probably tare Loki's lips—

"I have a knife!"

Tony quickly turned his head to where he had heard the voice. A man was pushing his way through the crowd, a small pocket knife in hand. Tony quickly took it and thanked the man. He pressed the blade gently against Loki's lips, trying his best to keep his hand as steady as possible as he severed the thread. Blood began to drip down Loki's pale wet chin, but Tony ignored it for the time being. He threw the knife down beside him and pulled the bloodied strings out of Loki's abused mouth, then took a deep breath and pressed their lips together, pinching Loki's nose in the process.

It felt weird—kissing a God that is. Tony had to remind himself that he wasn't exactly _kissing _Loki as much as he was trying to save his life. He blew air into Loki's mouth, pulled away and repeated the process. His own mouth was covered in blood and he wasn't sure which taste he hated more—blood or salt water. After the sixth time that he tried to breathe life back into Loki's limp body, he began to press Loki's chest.

_Once._

_Twice._

_Thrice. _

Loki's eyes snapped open and he gasped loudly, coughing violently as he sat up, spilling water that had filled his lungs from his mouth. To Tony, it looked as if Loki was emptying his whole body, throwing up water and blood and water. When Loki was done, he fell back against the sand, panting, flushed, and shaking from the force of trying to breathe.

"Loki…?"

Loki's green eyes looked towards Tony, not registering who was kneeling next to him. It took him all of two seconds to realize that this was Iron Man, Anthony Stark. How…? Was he in Midgar? Of all the realms he could have landed in, he landed in Midgar?

Oh the Fates do have a sense of humor.

"Hey, Reindeer Games. Can you hear me?"

Loki groaned at the nickname. He opened his mouth to speak but when nothing came out, he thought that his lips were still sown shut—but that couldn't be. He felt his lips moving. He tried again, and again no sound came out.

"Lokes? Are you trying to get feeling back in your mouth or something?" Tony asked, clearly confused as to why the God was simply moving his mouth and not speaking.

_Stark… _Loki wanted to say. _I can't speak. I have no voice! _But the Man of Iron could not understand what he was saying—Tony didn't read lips.

Tony was getting frustrated with the God, and it wasn't until a woman behind him spoke that he realized what was going on.

"Is he a mute?" She asked softly. "He's mouthing that he can't speak; that he doesn't have a voice."

Tony quickly glanced at the woman, then back at Loki and cursed loudly. The faceplate slid back into place. "Alright, Reindeer Games. I'm gonna pick you up and take you somewhere safe alright? So don't fight me. I'm only trying to help you."

Loki wanted to argue that but he felt too weak—too pathetic—to fight against Tony. He felt his body being lifted, and he closed his eyes. It felt as if he was fly through the air, with strong arms wrapped around his cold, fragile body, and it felt nice. He was too tired to open his eyes, and he ended up falling asleep in Tony's arms as they flew.

Perhaps he would be able to speak again once he recovered his strength; perhaps his vocal cords were just raw from no use. Perhaps…

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**A/N: Ehhh. I didn't like the ending to that chapter, but oh well. Sorry it took so long to update guys! I'll try to be faster next time! Promise! **

**This chapter is dedicated to my lovely Anthony Stark, I love you hun! **

**You guys are welcome to point out any mistakes, I won't bite.. hard~ **

**And you're always welcome to leave a review~! **


	4. Chapter II

**Only Speak When It Improves the Silence**

**Chapter II**

Tony was at a total loss; he had a wanted war criminal sitting on his couch, sipping water slowly as his long pale fingers trembled, almost as if it was an effort to hold the glass in his hands. Said man was also dripping water all over his floor and couch. At least it wasn't blood; water was much easier to clean up. Tony knew he should have contacted Fury, or even Steve for that matter, but the look in Loki's eyes—that helpless, pleading look—made him rethink it. He knew he would eventually pay the price for it, but he would handle it like he did with everything that blew out of proportion.

Taking a deep breath, tony made his way back to the living room, carrying a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth, wishing he could just down some more scotch and pretend none of this was happening. He had to clean Loki's wounds and get him out of those torn, wet drags; he also had to get the chains off of Loki's wrist. He wasn't sure how long Loki had had them on, or if the God had struggled with it. He didn't know if Loki had cuts and infections, so he had to be prepared for anything.

As soon as the genius stepped into the room, dull green eyes met chocolate brown ones in a panic. Tony didn't know what had Loki so scared; maybe it was the fact that he almost drowned, or maybe there was something Tony simply didn't know yet—what had happened to him?

"Hey, Reindeer Games. I'm gonna clean your mouth okay?" Tony asked slowly as he sat down on the coffee table, setting the bowl on the black marble surface next to him. Loki said nothing; instead he set the cup down next to the bowl and closed his eyes as Tony dipped the cloth in the water. Gently, Tony began to dab Loki's lips, whipping the blood away. It took nearly ten minutes to finish cleaning Loki's mouth, and disinfecting it.

The whole time Loki didn't make a noise, or any sign of pain or discomfort, which Tony had to admit was amazing. If it were him, he'd be bitching and complaining about the slightest thing, but not Loki. Tony set the cloth in the pink water and looked at Loki, frowning for a moment.

"Alright, that's over and done with… We should get you out of those clothes and into dry ones… plus the chains gotta go. I mean, I dig the whole tied up thing, but kin—"

The look Loki gave him was enough to shut him up.

"Right. Um. Let's go to my lab. I'll have JARVIS scan you just in case you have any more injuries I can't see."

Tony was expecting a fight—or anything really, just not Loki willingly standing up and following him down stairs to his lab. He was not expecting Loki to willingly strip out of all of his clothes and stand still as JARVIS scanned him either. The genius was sitting on his chair, in front of the now naked God, and a tablet in his hands as he watched the holographic pictures of Loki's body show up on the screen. Tony did his best to keep his eyes on the blue glow of his tablet, but he couldn't help it; every now and then his eyes would move to Loki's long lean body. He was try and memorize each and every dip of muscle and small scar on Loki's pale body; eyes trailing down the God's neck and chest and naval until he got to the man's length. His eyes remained there for a bit more than they should have, and it wasn't until a black cloth that resembled a dirty tank top that belonged to Tony covered his view did Tony break his gaze. Tony looked up, brown eyes meeting enraged emerald greens.

"_Sir, the scan is finished."_

Tony looked up at the ceiling, then down at the tablet, tapping at sections of Loki's body and rotating the image slowly. Without needing to be told he could already tell that treating Loki for anything would be impossible. He might look human, and he might have human anatomy, but he wasn't human. He was a God—or whatever—and there was no way of knowing how a drug would affect him, if it affected him at all. The scan had come out relatively normal—as normal as a scan of a God could go—except for some pink and dark red coloring in Loki's throat.

Tony double tapped on the area, enlarging it. "JARVIS—"

"_It appears that Mr. Laufeyson's vocal cords have been removed."_

Tony froze, his eyes widening for a moment at the robotic British accent. He stared at the blue glow of the tablet, and then looked up at Loki, noticing how still he had gone. He was like a statue; unmoving and silent, unblinking. Tony set the tablet down, quickly standing and walking over to the still God, frowning a bit, unsure of what to really say.

"Lokes?"

Loki's green eyes snapped to look at Tony; the fear and sheer terror in them made Tony's blood run cold. He swallowed hard, putting a hand on Loki's arm, only to have the other flinch and move away from his touch.

_Damn it._

What the hell was he doing? Did he actually _care _about what the God was feeling? Maybe he just felt bad. He did find the other drowning and gagged with his lips sown badly shut and now his voice was missing. That sucked. Majorly.

Loki turned from Tony, gripping the dirty tank top tightly in his hands as he allowed the news to sink in. He had lost his voice—no, He didn't lose it. It had been taken from me. He had been stripped of the one thing he had for protection, and to be left in this mortal realm, stuck with the Man of Iron, whose pitied gaze boiled his blood with anger. How he wished to scream; to scream at the top of his lungs and curse the Allfather for everything. There was nothing he could do now. He felt weak and powerless. He knew he no longer had possession of his magic—the Allfather had stripped him of that as well. He was but a mortal without a voice.

How pathetic was he?

And to be in the hands of an enemy who has shown him nothing but how pitiful he really was. Loki knew he was feeling sorry for himself, but what else could he do? He couldn't speak, nor could he tell Stark what had happened. He couldn't use magic, or work anything on Midgar—everything was just so strange to him.

"…and then you can learn h-….Loki are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?"

Loki looked up, Tony's voice snapping him out of his thoughts. He frowned a bit to himself, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips a bit, touching the small wounds above his lips. Shaking his head, he pulled Tony's tank top over his head, not wanting to stand around naked anymore. It was large on him—and smelled awful—but it would suffice. The straps fell off his shoulder, and it looked as if he wore a badly made dress.

With a small frown, Loki shook his head slowly, making Tony sigh.

"Okay. Let me repeat myself. For now you can use my tablet to write down anything if you want to, you know, communicate with me instead of glaring at me from across the room. I mean it's sexy but you're starting to burn a hole in my head, Lokes."

The glare he got made him smirk, but when Loki nodded, those green eyes shifting to the device in Tony's hand with uncertainty, Tony knew he was going to have his hands full. He would have to teach a God how to use a tablet. A war criminal God that had thrown him out of a window, killed Coulson, and destroyed half of New York.

Yeah.

No big deal.

* * *

**Gah. This is so short.**

**I'm so sorry it took so long to update this guys! **

**And that it's such a short chapter.**

**I'll try and update this again as soon as I can. I'm trying to get enough inspiration to update my other fanfictions as well before someone kills me o3o**

**Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it, and don't' hesitate to point out any mistakes guys. I'm only human, I won't bite!**


	5. Chapter III

**Only Speak When It Improves the Silence**

**Chapter III**

Tony had done a lot of crazy shit in his life, but nothing could add up to be as bad as this. Ever since Loki had started living with him everything in his life had been swirling out of control—not that he had much control over his life lately, but it made him feel better thinking that he did. The reason why Tony never wanted an animal growing up was that if he had to take care of anything, it would die. He could hardly take care of himself, how had anyone—how was _he_—expecting to take care of another living, breathing, thing?

Of course, taking care of someone that didn't want help made it even worse. Whenever Tony tried to help Loki with anything, no matter how small, he would receive glares and slaps from the fallen God. After two days of this treatment Tony had given up on it and had let the God do what he pleased, which was mostly staying locked up in the guest room that had become his and play around with the tablet he had taken from Tony. Tony didn't mind that so much, except when Loki had JARVIS's full attention and then it began to bother him.

His own AI had left him for the war criminal.

Since JARVIS was wired around the whole house, and since he was a computer program and not an actual human being, JARVIS could be anywhere at any time, so there really was no room for argument. It still bothered Tony though. He wanted to know what Loki was using JARVIS for, but every time he asked he would get the same responds: _"I'm sorry sir. Mr. Laufeyson has asked me to keep our sessions privet. But I assure you, if anything alarming arises, I will alert you, Sir."_

That didn't comfort him at all. Tony trusted JARVIS with his life, but something about all of this seemed wrong; fishy. Which brought him back to his current problem. "Jay, do you think that Loki would be mad if I gave this to him?" Tony asked as he held up light pink sweat pants that used to be white. Tony had been doing the laundry and had added his red boxers to the whites. It hadn't been his brightest moment and now everything white was pink, save for maybe a sock that had managed to dodge the onslaught of colors.

"_Unquestionably, sir."_

"Well shit, Jay. Thanks for the help." Tony said in frustration as he threw the clothes into the dryer.

"_I tried to warn you, sir. If I remember correctly you told me to 'shut my pie hole'."_

Tony looked up at the ceiling, frowning in annoyance. "Don't give me that sass, Jay."

"_My apologies, sir."_

Tony sighed and set the dryer before walking back to the living room. Loki was sitting on the couch with the tablet, which surprised Tony for a moment. "What up Reindeer Games? Finally coming out of your bat hole?" Loki looked up from what he was doing and quickly shut off his tablet, getting to his feet. He looked like a deer in headlights; as if he was just caught doing something he shouldn't. "Hey, hey. Relax. Want some food? You look like you could use some food." Tony looked him over. "Yeah. I'm gonna order us dinner since neither one of us can cook."

Loki watched Tony walk towards the kitchen, talking to JARVIS about different foods he wanted delivered. With a sigh, the God grabbed the tablet again and returned to his seat, pulling his knees up to his chest so he was almost a ball on the couch. He ignored Tony's words for the most part and unlocked the tablet to continue what he was doing. After having two days to be enraged about his situation, Loki had gotten tired of self-pity and decided he should do something about it. Not that he could do _much _but there was still _something _he could do; _anything. _

That was why he had started… befriending JARVIS. The computer—at least that's what Tony had said JARVIS was, or was that… AI? What was AI?—was actually rather patient with him. Unlike Tony who had given up on him two days into their little sleep over. Of course Loki didn't blame him, not at all. After he had learned to work the tablet—again, thanks to JARVIS—Loki had began doing research on the mortals he so despised, and had asked JARVIS to keep his doings silent from Stark.

Human history intrigued him. He went back as far as Ancient Greek, learning the different languages and history to each civilization. He took a great interest in Nordic history though, and began doing research on himself, only to find that humans hated him just as much as the Aesir did. Not that it mattered, he still had worshipers in that time—he _was _a God after all—not that they were many, but temples of him still rose and fell, just like temples of Thor and Odin. Though his worshipers were outcast and demented people, they praised him like any other God and almost begged him to bring Ragnarok.

He learned about World War I and II; learned about Captain America and the fall of the Third Reich. Every war he read, every piece of information he absorbed, he became more and more disgusted by Midgardians. He began to think that the Aesir at least fought with dignity; they went to war only when necessary and battled for glory. Mortals wanted nothing but power and destruction. They didn't need him, or anything—anyone—else to come and aid them in that. They were killing themselves as it is.

"Whatcha reading, Reindeer Games?"

Loki's head snapped up as he felt a hot breath on his neck. He moved as far away from Tony as he possibly could without falling off the couch, narrowing his bright green eyes at the man.

"What? Did I scare you? Too close for comfort? Was I violating your personal space? Do Gods have personal space? You know I hear you guys throw hell of a lot of orgies." Tony said with a wide smirk as he leaned his hip against the couch, watching as Loki shook his head and rolled his eyes and began to type on the tablet.

"_What do you want, Stark?" _JARVIS spoke as Loki typed. _"I do not have time for your childish games."_

"Ouch. You know, I think that's part of my charm. Can't change that. Sorry. You're stuck with it, big guy." Tony pointed a finger at him. "Want something to drink while we wait for our food? I'm getting something to drink." Tony pushed away from the couch as he made his way to the bar against the wall. He kept his eyes on Loki though, still uneasy about having him there to begin with.

"_I believe we've been here before, have we not?"_

"Oh yeah. Right before we kicked your ass and sent you packing back to Asgard with Big Brother Thor." Tony said as he poured himself some scotch. The silence that followed was agonizing and it was then that Tony realized he might have said the wrong thing. Oops.

"_I think I'll take that drink, Stark."_

"Great!" Tony poured another glass full of scotch and picked them both up, moving to the couch and handing one to Loki, who in turn downed it like it was water. Huh. Interesting. "Okay, so, I just had a brilliant idea. Want to hear it?" Tony turned to Loki, but didn't give him a chance to type. "Great. So I was thinking, since you're using my tablet to do whatever you're doing—searching up porn, blogging about your sad life, going through tumblr pictures—and you're also using JARVIS to… do whatever, I was thinking maybe we could teach you sign language. What do you say, Jay? Think you can teach Loki some sign language?"

"_Certainly, sir. If Mr. Laufeyson so wishes it."_

"Great, cause it's getting really weird hearing you talk when he types stuff out." Tony said as he sipped his scotch, loving the burning in his throat before his body began to numb itself out.

"_My apologies, sir."_

Tony turned to look at Loki who had a frown on his face; strands of black hair falling over his eyes. Loki wore black sweat pants and a large black long sleeve shirt, that all belonged to Tony of course. He really needed to go shopping.

"_What is… sign language?" _

"Oh." Tony cleared his throat. "It's for deaf and mute people. You know, something us mortals came up with so our handicap people can communicate." When Loki only stared at him with a droll glare he continued. "It's, uh, speaking with your hands. Or body language. Or something. Jay?"

"_Sign language is a system of communication using manual, facial, and other body movements. It is highly used with individuals that are deaf or mute, or both."_

Loki glanced down at the tablet in his hands, then nodded a bit slowly, more to himself than to Tony as he thought this over in his head. Being able to communicate with his hands would prove useful, and he wouldn't have to type everything out; that was just tedious, and even if he was a fast learner, technology was still not his forte.

"_Alright, Stark. I will learn the language of signs."_

Tony grinned wide, feeling as if he had accomplished something useful. "Great! Fantastic! You can start in the morning, I'm sure JARVIS will be an excellent teacher." Just as he finished speaking, the doorbell rang.

"_Sir, your food is here."_

* * *

Dinner had passed relatively silent—no pun intended. Tony did all the talking. He went on and on about his latest inventions and how the weather was outside and how it was such a great time to go to the beach and for a drive or for a fly around the city in his suit. He hardly ate, just drank and slurped up some noodles and stealing chicken from Loki's side of the table. Loki ate calmly, listening to Tony ramble about useless information that he could care less about.

He was beginning to wonder if Tony simply liked the sound of his voice and him being unable to talk was like paradise for the genius.

* * *

After dinner JARVIS had reminded Tony that he still needed to check on the laundry. With a curse Tony went to the laundry room and pulled open the door for the dryer. He pulled out the hot clothes and began to throw them on the basket.

One pink shirt, one pair of pink socks, one pair of pink shorts, two pink tank tops, and a pair of pink sweat pants later Loki was barging into the room, throwing a towel at Tony's face and silently screaming at him as he held up his pink clothing. Tony only grinned in amusement and tried not to laugh as Loki stormed out of the room, holding a mixture of anger and amusement on his face.


End file.
